


Broken glass

by sakasamasa



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Blood, Gen, Major Character Injury, Parent Death, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2017-07-01
Packaged: 2018-11-21 22:35:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11367036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakasamasa/pseuds/sakasamasa
Summary: Frey Lavellan is reunited and faced with a piece of the past that has haunted him since the day he chose to abandon the ones he loved the most.(Pre-Inquisition Lavellan angst. OC only. No ties to the actual plotline or in-game events.)





	Broken glass

**Author's Note:**

> EDIT: I'M SO SORRY I FORGOT TO TAG THIS BUT IT'S GOT MENTIONS OF SELF-HARM IN IT SO PLEASE DON'T READ THIS IF THAT SQUICKS YOU OUT I'M SO SORRY
> 
> Angsty drabble that expands on my Lavellan's backstory.  
> It doesn't really matter, but I would like to point out that this is not a shipfic, please do not interpret it as such! Thank you!
> 
> I know this is pretty unprofessional for anyone who writes anything ever, but since these characters are all original, this is basically the gist of all the characters in this story so as to not confuse any readers: Frey is not originally from Clan Lavellan, Aslan is Frey's (illegitimate) brother and best friend, and Talessi is Aslan's twin.
> 
> Any and all comments are greatly appreciated! If anyone's interested in reading more about my Lavellan, PLEASE let me know! It motivates me to write "^^

"Frey..."

  
A broken whisper filled the silence, falling short of the frozen silhouette of a young boy before him. The abandoned warehouse was dark, save for the meager light that shone through grooves in the door, yet he could still see the eerily frozen outline of the other's shoulders.  
Open crates and boxes were strewn about on the dusty ground, some opened, some still closed. Careful footsteps seemed to echo through the stagnant air before the crystalline crackle of glass below made them halt. Aslan slowly looked down as his eyes widened in horror at the glimmering pieces that littered the floor. A sea of shards glittered like a thousand eyes within a deep, dark night.

  
"What did you do?"

  
The words were left hanging in the musty dimness, uttered only to fade and be forgotten. Frey was unresponsive, and for a moment Aslan wondered if he wasn't just talking to a specter. For the first time, he felt fearful of his closest friend, a feeling of dread beginning to blossom in his gut. He thought to call out once more, but his throat tightened when he realized the dripping sound was not coming from the roof above, but from the ground near the base of Frey's bare feet. The dusty floor was just a few shades darker where the drops of blood tick-tick-ticked against the surface like the hands of a clock.   
With calculated, meticulous steps, Aslan made his way forward, the crushing of glass beneath the soles of his boots painfully loud.   
He reached out to the other with a single, wary hand, but just as his fingertips grazed his shoulder, Frey spun around and stepped back as if burned by his touch. Even in the darkness, his eyes were wild and wide, but strangely vacant. The shattering of fragmented crystal resounded once more as Frey moved, yet he seemed entirely unfazed by the sharp pieces digging into the skin of his feet. 

"Frey!"

  
Aslan's voice grew louder in a sudden panic that sparked in his chest. The other visibly tensed, yet he still did not meet Aslan's eyes.

"Stop! You're hurting yourself!"

  
Finally, a pair of striking eyes met his. Frey cast him a curiously dazed look, as if he had just been roused from a dreamlike state. Then, his expression distorted, a cynical leer appearing on his face as he looked away a second time, as if ashamed of meeting his gaze.

"Isn't that the point?"

  
There was an unfamiliarity in his tone that made his blood run cold. His posture seemed alien, poised but strangely animalistic, like a predator readying itself to strike. The dissonance between his perception of Frey, and the person that now stood before him was unnerving unlike anything he'd ever felt before.  
The rhythmic pitter-patter of blood sped up, and it was then that Aslan noticed the sizable shard of glass that Frey held tightly in his bloodied hand. 

"Why are you doing this?" He pleaded.

  
A tense silence followed, and the dripping of blood seemed to grow louder with every drop.

"This, Aslan," Frey gestured around himself, his movements lazy and graceless, "this is where I lost my parents. This is where I left them, all those years ago."

  
His voice was void of any semblance of sadness, no grief nor despair lacing his words.  
Aslan's heart sank at the mention of Frey's parents. As little as he'd heard of them, he did know they were taken by Tevinter slavers right after crossing the Waking Sea. So close to their destination, the Dales, they were snatched away by the very menace from which they fled. Frey had only vaguely mentioned them before, but understandably tended to shy away from the subject. Whenever he did speak of them, it was with soft eyes and a fond smile curling his lips.

"I didn't even try saving them," he continued, "I just ran, like a coward."

  
"You couldn't have saved them," Aslan interjected. He took one step forward, ignoring the crunching noise below his soles. In turn, Frey took yet another step backwards, seemingly oblivious to the shards that dug even further into his skin.

  
"You were a child," he tried, though felt as though it was futile to try and make his friend see to reason.

  
"We never should have left the alienage," Frey muttered, ignoring his words entirely. 

  
The tension was tangible, and Aslan felt his fingers twitch to grab at the hilt of his dagger.

"Aslan," Frey's head shot up, eyes crinkling as he started to snicker.

  
"I'm free!" He laughed, but the fleeting pain in his eyes betrayed his words.

Slowly, his resolve started to crumble.

  
"I'm free, but at what cost? It's my fault they're never coming back. They're never coming back. I'm never going to see them again. Because of me- My parents! My mother, my father," his breath hitched as tears started to well up in his eyes, "Who gave me everything, who made my biggest dream come true- they're gone. They're gone, and I... I'm still here... Creators, I'm still..."

  
He buried his head in trembling hands. All the ardor and malice had left him, leaving only a lost, pitiful child crying out for his parents in the darkness. He'd already cried many times before, but never thought to ask for comfort or closure, and now Aslan understood why.  
He made his way towards him, close enough to pull him into a tight embrace. A sharp clink resonated through the air as Frey dropped the shard of glass onto the stained ground. He froze at first, but then relented, leaning into his touch and harshly gripping at the fabric of his shirt with shaking hands. Wailing sobs and shivers wracked his body as he wept. It reminded Aslan of when they were younger. He left the camp to hunt alone one summer morning, only to return to a distressed Frey who'd spent hours searching for him in a blind panic. He'd cried into his arms much like he did now, holding onto him like a lifeline in a stormy sea.  
The blood on Frey's hands permeated the thin fabric of his shirt, a sticky warmth building where they pushed against Aslan's chest.

He kept him close until Frey stopped shaking, all the while carding his fingers gently through his hair.  
Pulling away, he regarded him with a cautious gaze. His eyes were still red and swollen, a wet sheen on the surface, but his brows were no longer creased with worry or anger. Slowly, he let go of him, letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding.

"Could you sit down on the crate over there? I need to wrap your feet before we go back."

Frey's expression soured in embarrassment, subconsciously withdrawing into himself at the mention of his self-inflicted injury, but he nodded slightly nonetheless.  
With careful hands, he guided him to the upturned crate. Frey winced slightly with every step, but said nothing of it, a solemn look on his tearstained face. He sat down with difficulty, leaning on his hands as he lowered himself on the crate.   
Aslan went to work swiftly, unholstering his dagger and using it to tear off pieces of fabric from his coat. Frey opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off as a sharp jolt of pain ran through his foot when Aslan carefully grabbed it.  
Some pieces of glass were wedged deep into his skin, and Aslan couldn't keep himself from cringing at the sight. 

"I'm sorry. This will probably hurt," he uttered a useless apology, offering Frey a sympathetic smile, who returned it with an assuring nod, but couldn't keep himself from trembling as the shards were removed.

Aslan made sure to work quickly, not wanting Frey to suffer through the pain for too long. He made a mental note to call for Halla at the earliest opportunity, so the other wouldn't have to walk on his wounded feet too much. After a few minutes, all of the cuts were bandaged, and Aslan sighed tiredly.  
The light of the evening sun cast an amber glow through the cracks, illuminating the worryingly large amount of blood at the base of the crate. Frey looked at it, shoulders tensing up at the sight.

"We'll take better care of it at home, but this should do for now," Aslan spoke up, redirecting his attention to him, "Ready?"

  
"...Yeah."

  
He made the effort to stand, but winced as soon as he put any weight on his feet. Aslan swiftly put one arm around the other's waist to help him stand upright.

"You okay?" he asked.

Frey hummed assuringly, but a ghost of a frown crossed his expression before he spoke.

"Please," he muttered, "don't... tell Talessi about this- Or the Keeper. That would be bad."

Aslan grinned.

"I won't. I promise."

He put his hand against the worn door, pushing against it as light flowed into the empty room behind them. Neither of them looked back, neither of them wanting to.

"Now, let's go home."


End file.
